The Good Doctor in Cairo: a Phamercy Story
by Norris J
Summary: Angela Ziegler (Mercy) travels to Cairo for volunteer medical work, expecting to find a fulfilling work environment and city of adventure. What she does not expect, however, is to fall deeply, truly in love with her local bodyguard, Fareeha Amari (Pharah).
1. Chapter 1

**Chapter I**

 **In which the Good Doctor arrives in Cairo, and we are introduced to her Entourage**

Dr. Angela Ziegler, head resting gracefully on her arm, leaned down to take a look out the plane window. The whole city, or as much of it as she could now see, was the color of sand - even the buildings appeared to be made out of it, and a faint cloak of orange dust rested above the city and horizon like a sunlit halo of sand. "...And I have arranged via my local contacts for you to have a personal security detail while you are working here", the stocky man sitting across from her was saying, "Someone you can trust. You should be able to focus entirely on your work-and as you know, Brussels is expecting quite a bit of magic from you", he added. He was tall, but not very; wide, but not broad. His brown jacket unambiguously identified him as either a professor or doctor of some kind, while his shirt, which was loose at the chest and tight around the waist, unambiguously identified him as a middle-aged man. He had a short black beard (featuring, although he strongly denied it, the odd grey hairs), and thick black brows. "And you, Dr. Abbas, will you be staying in Cairo as well?" Ziegler asked, turning for the first time way from the window to look at him inquiringly. The Good Doctor, as she was known, was a tall aryan goddess of a woman with straight golden-blonde hair and pale blue yet kind eyes. Her carriage was one of dignity and graceful authority, with a voice that added a bright, matronly touch. She spoke with the charming trace of a German accent. "I don't know anyone else in the country, to be frank".

"Yes, yes, I will for the time being", the man replied, "I'm also supposed to be working here you know and so I should be here for a stretch until I'm called back."

"And our hotel? I really hope it isn't too lavish. These tourist spots can be, yes?"

"I don't think it is - though I can't speak for yours. My backers aren't quite as generous as yours and so I have been put up in a different hotel. No doubt less, as you say, lavish."

"Oh that's really too bad. I can't say it will make me enjoy my hotel any less though!" she added with a posh, carefree laugh.

Dr. Angela Ziegler had been sent to Cairo as part of a peacetime UN medical dispatch, selected along with a handful of European medical professionals to cairo to help treatment and training of medical staff. Ziegler herself was a renowned Swiss nanoscience expert and troglodyte, who had built up quite the reputation for visiting conflict zones and doing medical volunteer work in many parts of the world, prior to being contacted by the UN. This trip, however was to no battlefield, but to a civilian operation. The unhurried, almost bored _Welcome to Cairo International Airport_ heard over the arrivals terminal speaker seemed to drive this home very well. In fact, though she was as brave as any in the face of danger or war, Dr. Ziegler was happy to enjoy the opportunity for some R&R that this assignment would provide.

Dr. Abbas assumed the larger of the two travellers' bags, and hailed them a cab outside of the airport. "The Sheraton Cairo, please", he said to the driver as they got in. Noticing Dr. Ziegler's pursed lips, he offered, "It has been a while, really, I really do need to brush up on my _masri_."

"I had hoped you might be able to teach me some, for fun you know! Too bad." Dr. Ziegler responded.

"Perhaps your bodyguard will be able to help you with that - she is a local; a friend of mine and fluent as they come," said Dr. Abbas, but the good doctor didn't seem to be paying attention. She was looking out the window at the city passing by. The streets and buildings looked almost like any European city, except for the color-a sandy stone tint seemed to be on all the buildings, and they cast stark shadows, all under the lone sun in a cloudless blue sky.

They arrived at the hotel in not much more than a half hour, and checking in, headed up to where the good doctor would be staying. Though she had insisted against it, Dr. Abbas said he would help carry her bags up before heading to his own hotel.

"I have told your to-be bodyguard to join us upstairs when she arrives; I'll just introduce you two and be off. Let's hope you approve of your room!" he added in jest, as they opened the door. The room was spacious, sensible, and clean - and posh while indeed not being "too lavish".

"Well! This is nice," said Dr. Ziegler, as she surveyed the room with her hands on her hips. She had completely forgotten Dr. Abbas though, who was struggling to hoist the larger of her suitcases up onto the bed. "Oh!" she exclaimed, and moved to help. Too late, the latch had opened, spilling half the contents down onto the floor. "I am so sorry doctor!" Dr. Ziegler offered. "No no, it's alright - the thing's heavier than I thought!" Dr. Abbas replied. As he seemed to hesitate in picking the clothing articles up himself, Dr. Ziegler started to do so herself. She was interrupted, however, by Dr. Abbas suddenly standing up and turning towards the still-open door.

Standing in the doorway was a tall Egyptian woman, resting her forearm on the doorway. She was clad in some sort of cropped security vest, and wearing (presumably) military-issue camouflage pants. A rifle was strapped across her left shoulder. She had straight black hair, flowing free save for two golden-ringed braids on either side of her face. She had beautiful deep brown skin, and arresting chocolate-colored eyes, framed by thick, low-set, determined eyebrows. Around her right eye was an _udjat_ ('eye of horus') tattoo. She had strong facial features; bespeaking of a hardiness her otherwise feminine beauty would seem to contradict. In short, the picture of arabian divinity.

"Ah! Here is your security detail. Come in, Fareeha, how are you?"

The woman left the doorway and walked stiffly (perhaps a bit comically) into the room towards them, and embraced Dr. Abbas by putting her right arm around his neck. She had the bearing of a soldier.

"Dr. Ziegler, this is Captain Fareeha Amari; she is going to be your bodyguard while you are here. I was a friend of her mother's back several-well, many-years ago. She is former Egyptian security operating out of...Giza, was it?"

The woman, who had been looking inscrutably at Dr. Ziegler since coming to a stop in front of the two, now turned her head, followed a few seconds later by her eyes, toward the old man.

"Yes", she answered shortly.

"Right, I though that was it", continued Dr. Abbas, "You look so much like your mother you know", he started, but seemed to recover himself mid-thought and turned back towards Dr. Ziegler.

"This is the colleague I told you about, Fareeha, Dr. Angela Ziegler from Brussels. She is a longtime friend of mine", he said, indicating the good doctor. Dr. Ziegler took a step towards the newcomer and extended her hand, smiling. "It is nice to meet you, Captain", she said warmly. For her part, the Captain looked at her outstretched hand for a few moments, then stiffly extended hers in return. As she did so, Dr. Ziegler noticed surprisingly muscular forearms revealed by the Captain's rolled-up sleeves. "I told Dr. Abbas not to go overboard with security, but I am glad to hear you are a friend of his - I do thank you for all of this", the good doctor added, clasping both hands together now.

"I have heard much about you, Doctor Angela", said Fareeha. She spoke with a noticeable accent, and had a low but dulcet voice. "Call me Pharah. I will do my best to protect you and make sure you enjoy a safe time in Cairo".

Dr. Ziegler involuntarily laughed lightly at the stiff formality of the captain's speech. "I daresay I shan't need all that much in the way of protection, but I will appreciate the company at least", she said reassuringly.

"Fareeha is one of the best you can find, and her mother was a good friend of mine as well-" Dr. Abbas started again, but, suddenly seeing again the open half-unpacked bags on the bed, he drew himself up and said, "Well! I am a bit jet lagged after that flight, and I think I will just head over to my hotel for the day." Once again embracing the Captain, and shaking hands with Dr. Ziegler, he added "Fareeha will be on standby in the hotel, and I will be staying just across the street; if you need anything do let me know-though I've been away for so long I'm not as familiar with the city as the Captain!" He chuckled as he turned to leave, "Good afternoon then, ladies" he waved as he picked up his suitcase and turned to walk out. The two women watched him leave. "Good day Dr. Abbas, thank you!" Dr. Ziegler called after him. As his footsteps disappeared down the hallway, the doctor and the captain turned to look at each other. After a moment of silence, Dr. Ziegler spoke "I wonder if he knows you don't get jet lag on 4 hour flights?" She laughed, and the Captain's hitherto serious expression changed into smile as she chuckled as well. This apparently relaxed her somewhat, and she asked "Can I help with your bags?" indicating the jumble on the bed. She moved past the doctor and reached to pick up one of the spilled articles of clothing on the bed. "Oh, no!" chided Dr. Ziegler, lithely moving to snatch up the piece of clothing, which happened to be a pair of undergarments. "I won't have it; I shall fix this mess myself", laughing, she carelessly tossed it back into the suitcase. Pharah quickly withdrew her hand at this, and, attempting to re-position herself, almost dropped her rifle over her shoulder before catching the strap and hoisting it back into position. She appeared a bit flustered by what she probably saw as a lapse of professionalism, so Dr. Ziegler attempted to reassure her with "Well! I had better get started trying to settle myself in", pretending not to notice, and focusing on folding some shirt or other. Pharah might have been blushing, but, of course, it was impossible to tell.

"Yes", said Fareeha, a bit loudly, stepping backwards a few paces as if to go, "Then I shall be on standby in the lobby downstairs". She saluted briefly, and then, about-faced, and started walking out of the room.

"Thank you again for being here, dear!" said Dr. Ziegler, turning and waving at the retreating Captain.

Pharah closed the door as she walked out, and turned the knob several times, checking the lock from without. Dr. Ziegler watched her leave and laughed a bit to herself, _how adorable_ , she thought, and then turned to start her unpacking in earnest. She meticulously folded up the items, and placing them back into the suitcase, pulling it down to the floor. "Whew!" she exclaimed, and fell backwards onto the now cleared bedspread. Looking up at the ceiling she rubbed her eyes, and yawned, out of habit covering it with the back of her hand. She turned and looked over out the window at the now-dusk covered city, thinking about plans, work, and what was to come for her in Cairo.


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter II**

 **In which the Good Doctor checks in at UN Regional Offices**

Captain Fareeha Amari sat with her arms folded on the hotel lobby sofa. Her rifle was resting on her crossed legs. She appeared to be waiting, as she lightly kicked her boot-clad foot back and forth. Passing hotel staff and visitors gave her careful, inquisitive looks or talked to each other in low voices. Raising her arm to her face, she looked at the military-style watch she wore, then resumed her former pose. She appeared to be waiting for someone. Just then, a blonde woman came out of the elevator, looked around absently and headed towards the front desk. Immediately, Pharah stood up and walked over beside her, her long strides catching up with relative ease. "Oh! Good morning Captain!" Dr. Ziegler said cheerfully, "Where you waiting for me?"

"Yes", the Captain replied, "I am to accompany you wherever you go." she said as they walked through the large lobby.

"You slept well?" Pharah asked, looking sideways at her as they walked.

"I did indeed!" Angela answered. "I'm afraid I didn't manage to unpack even all my _lingerie_ though," she started, but, sensing the Captain's embarrassment (probably from last night's incident), she deftly moved on. "I hope it isn't too hot out today," she said. Dr. Ziegler had dressed in a white dress shirt, medium length-skirt, and flats, in an attempt to compromise comfort in the heat with a sensible touch of formality.

She was re-tying her hair up as they walked. As she did so, her elbow bumped into the butt of Pharah's rifle.

"Gracious dear, do put that thing away!" Dr. Ziegler chided, pointing to the Captain's rifle, which she held in her hands. "We haven't even left the hotel!"

Pharah sheepishly complied, strapping the gun over her shoulder and across her back.

The man at the counter looked slightly startled at the weapon as the two women approached the desk. "What can I help you with?" He asked, trying to maintain composure and not to make eye contact with the Captain, "I hope your first night in Cairo was enjoyable."

"Oh it was," Angela replied, leaning on the counter.

"What I would like to know is," the good doctor continued, "Did a man by the name of Mahmoud Abbas leave a message for me?"

"Let me check," said the man, looking over at his computer screen. Pharah folded her arms, glancing around.

"Oh yes, there is such a note, he left it last night it seems." The clerk reached under the counter and produced a small note, which he gave to the doctor.

Dr. Ziegler opened it and read the contents:

 _Dr. Ziegler,_

 _I hope you slept well. H_ _ave to work today but I will leave you in the care of Fareeha._

 _I have made reservations for us to have 8pm dinner at the 'Left Bank', a favourite restaurant of mine here in Cairo. See you then!_

 _M. Abbas_

"Well it seems I shall have to make it to the regional office on my own," she said, folding the letter. Captain Amari was peering over her shoulder. "I shall take you there," she offered. "I know the way; Dr. Abbas sent me the address this morning."

"Oh, well why didn't you say so!" laughed Angela, and she softly and playfully pushed the Captain's shoulder. Pharah was wearing a white sleeveless tank-top, minus the jacket she had sported the day before. Her substantial muscular arms and shoulders were visible as such, and the aesthetic of them left an impression on the good doctor as she did so. As for Pharah, she subconsciously noted the softness of the doctor's hand as she touched her shoulder. They were both partly, perhaps even mostly unaware of their own reactions at the time, and it was almost imperceptible, even had they been anticipating it - but it was nonetheless very real, like a brief, small spark in a dark room.

The two women walked out the front of the hotel, into the rising temperature of the morning, and stood on the sidewalk as the Captain hailed a cab, waving with her long, muscular arm. Placing her hand on the doctor's shoulder, she ushered her in the cab first, following herself after glancing around quickly. Pharah had a brief exchange in _masri_ with the cab driver, and they departed. Angela sat primly on the edge of her seat, knees bent, while the Captain sat with a slight slouch, clutching her rifle upright between her legs.

"You are sure you know where this place is?" Dr. Ziegler asked, finally finishing re-tying her hair. Resting her elbow on the window, Pharah looked over at her, examining her closely for the first time. She was struck by the beauty of her golden hair in the Cairo sunlight, and her smooth, fair skin. Although she had escorted many VIPs and outsiders before, it was the first time she had been the bodyguard for a civilian, especially one like...Like this…

"What is it dear?" Angela was asking. Suddenly coming to, the Captain faltered "I-I was hoping you are not to hot in this weather," she said, recovering herself.

"It _is_ so very hot, already so early in the day," Angela replied. She opened the window to let in the wind. "Well!" she exclaimed, reaching her arm out the window to catch the wind. It blew her hair out of her bun again, but she just laughed, feeling carefree. The wind blew Pharah's hair as well, and she in turn laughed a bit. The taxi man frowned at them in the rearview mirror even though he had no hair to be messed up. The doctor noticed and tried to suppress her laughter, drawing her eyebrows together in a mock frown, imitating him. The captain laughed freely for the first time at this, and Angela laughed too in response.

They came to a stop outside the UN regional office building. This is where Dr. Ziegler was officially to work, assigned as she had been to training local UN medical staff. It was a circular gray building, not particularly tall, but featuring a sleek modern design punctuated by angular column structures around its windowed exterior. Pharah got out of the cab, turning to look up at the building as she hoisted her rifle over her shoulder. Dr. Ziegler saw her as she stood there, wind blowing her thick black hair as she looked upwards, and it struck her that the Captain looked like some Egyptian goddess out of a legend.

"I shall wait outside for you," Pharah told her as they approached the front doors. "You will be safe inside; I shall wait until you return."

"Oh, thank you dear, I shouldn't take very long! Today is just for introductions you know!" Fanning herself and pushing her wind-blown hair back off her forehead, Dr. Ziegler went inside. Pharah assumed a position to the left of the sliding doors, resting her hands on the butt of her rifle, putting the barrel-end down on the ground between her legs, and waited. Every now and then someone in a suit or a medical jacket would go in or out of the building, but being as it was a UN building, they barely gave her or her rifle a second glance. Perhaps they were used to seeing such people. The fact is, Pharah was much more comfortable in this kind of environment - as opposed to a hotel or other such place. She had been trained as a fighter and security guard from the time she was a child; martial arts, marksmanship, field operations, and weight training. She always felt the most fulfillment when engaging in these things, and she truly enjoyed herself doing them. Perhaps it was because she had never known much else; but she never longed for much more than these things, which all together comprised Fareeha Amari's world. She was a woman born and bred in Egypt; she was as tough as grains of sand held in the hand and as beautifully enigmatic as the shifting shape of dunes in the desert winds.

Inside the building, Dr. Ziegler was touring around the facilities, being introduced to staff and meeting a handful of her pupils-to-be. One of the things she enjoyed the most was meeting new people, and talking to said people. Her natural adeptness at it was largely to thank for her being in the position she was in; being not only a brilliant medical expert, but also possessed of a vibrant international network to the extent she was. She had made sacrifices, to be sure - none in the way of ethics, thankfully, but her personal life was quite limited in scope. Her job was for all practical purposes her hobby. Though having had more than a few would-be suitors in the context of her work, Dr. Ziegler's relationship resume was quite sparse. Despite this, she never had the time to get lonely, and was a woman who enjoyed her work such that, she reasoned, she would be happier investing into it fully rather than not. More than anything, she enjoyed the new faces and new places her work afforded; the shifting of these things was her only constant. Love was not something she had thought too much about, much less fallen into. It was not that she avoided love, just that, love had simply not found her yet.

Outside, Pharah looked at her watch, raising it up to her face as was her habit. The sun had moved since they arrived, and now the Captain no longer stood in the shade. On the side grass adjacent to the main entrance were a few palm trees, but nothing that provided substantial shade. Besides, she had told Angela this is where should be, and so here she would stay. The Cairo sun was deceptively hot; floating still with seeming innocence in the cloudless blue sky, yet emitting a strong, dry heat all through the day until the moment it disappeared behind the dunes. Pharah wiped her forehead with her forearm; she was beginning to sweat. She was less affected by the heat than, say, Angela would have been, but the quiet golden sun took no prisoners. She shifted from one leg to the other. " _Ealayk Allaena_ ," she said. Reaching down, she pulled the neck of her tank back and forth at the chest, trying to create airflow around her body. She suddenly wished for something with which to fan herself.

Just then, she heard the sound of voices and a familiar laugh. Dr. Ziegler came out of the building-she was talking to someone as she walked out, and appeared to be be exchanging farewells.

"...And thank you so much for the bearings; I don't know what I would have done without you!" She was saying. "Good-bye! Good day!" Pharah picked up her rifle, rested it on her shoulder, and walked over to Angela's side. The doctor turned to notice her for the first time. "Oh! You've come. Such nice people here and I'm gl - Dear Pharah, look how soaked you are! I am so sorry; I stayed talking far too long, just thinking of myself, and now just look at this!" 'Soaked' was perhaps a bit of an exaggeration, but the Captain was indeed sweating quite a bit-her chocolate skin was glistening, and her tank had a faint damp patch across the front. "I will be fine Dr. Angela," She said, adding, "but let's find a taxi as quick as we can."

"Of course!" Angela chirped, walking briskly towards the street. Pharah followed, and the two stood on the sidewalk as a cab approached. Putting away her rifle and wiping her chin with her forearm, the captain hailed and they quickly got in.

As they closed the door and were off, Angela pulled herself forward to address the driver, and with a concerned face, asked, "Can you please turn the air conditioner on high, for my friend?" Something about the loud and deliberate way she said it, and her matronly earnestness made Pharah laugh. "Don't worry, Doctor Angela. I am accustomed to much more than this," she said. Still, she did seem a bit uncomfortable. Probably attempting to cool off more, she reached down and rolled up her tank at the waist, revealing her midriff. This drew Dr. Ziegler's surprised glance. She had known the captain was quite muscular - the round shoulders and long, muscular forearms were hard to miss. But seeing Pharah's deeply cut, aesthetically arranged abs, glistening in the sunlight, was a new surprise for the doctor. She had never seen a woman like this; who was she? Who exactly was this woman, Fareeha…? As quickly as it had come, this moment passed - regaining her composure, Angela reached into her breast pocket and pulled out a medium-sized handkerchief. "Here, Pharah dear, use this, I insist!" With a nod of appreciation, the captain took it and unfolded it, with an endearing awkwardness that suggested she was unaccustomed to handling such dainty objects. She extended on arm, then the other in turn as she wiped herself with the gift. She then wiped her face, the sides of her neck, and along her deep, beautiful collarbones. "There! You keep that dear," Said Dr. Ziegler warmly. Her hair had fallen loosely out of its bun again. Now finished, and much refreshed, Pharah turned to her and smiled. "Thank you, Doctor Angela," She said softly. "You naturally show kindness to others, even with nothing to gain. From now on, I shall call you _rahma_ \- Mercy."


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter III**

 **In which the Good Doctor enjoys her First Dinner out in Cairo**

"Angela Ziegler," said the good doctor to the man across the counter, leaning across it in her trademark way. "Z, i, e, g, l, e, r…"

"Party of two, Ab - "

"Yes patry of two; it will be under the name Abbas, I suppose," Mercy added.

"So it is, Abbas," replied the man, and moved to show her to the dining area. He abandoned the attempt however, when she strode ahead on her own.

The interior of the place was bright, with white furniture and an almost Caribbean 'breezy' aesthetic. One wall was entirely made of glass, and was essentially an indoor veranda on the whole. It was on the whole somewhere in between a purely international hotel-style dining area and what one might expect from a more authentic Cairo-style establishment. There were a few potted plants situated here and there to, presumably, add a vague touch of the exotic. The river, visible out the window nearby, glistened in the evening light.

As the room was not exceptionally large, Mercy quickly spotted Dr. Abbas, seated by the window. He returned her enthusiastic wave and got up to greet her as she walked over.

"So! You found it," he said, shaking her hand and gesturing for her to take a seat across from him. "How are you enjoying Cairo so far?" He said after they had gotten situated.

"Well! It's very nice that it has cooled down now, in the evening. Of course I haven't had time to see the city yet, really. But when I do I think I shall go in the evening." Mercy replied, sipping her water.

"The Cairo sun is quite punishing, yes - I've ordered us some food already, I think you'll like it - but I still recommend going out to the markets during the day." Dr. Abbas replied.

"Oh, I did read about those. I really would like to have a look. In fact I think I just might go walking around tomorrow."

"You should! Take Fareeha with you; she will know her way around. She spent a lot of her childhood in these streets."

"She is quite the hardy one, I think. But such a thoughtful person really; just a dear," Mercy reflected, looking out the window.

"She is that," nodded Dr. Abbas.

"I'm rather curious about her; what is her story?"

"Already? She does tend to make people wonder," laughed Dr. Abbas. "I think I must've told you this already, but I was good friends with her mother, Ana Amari, years ago."

"I think you did, doctor. Several times," Mercy teased.

"Oh, did I?" laughed Dr. Abbas. "She and I grew close - not in a romantic way you understand - while working together in London. That must have been 30 years ago now…She was working as a special force security officer, and I was involved in my understudy at university. She was quite the woman; someone you wouldn't forget if you once met her. Quite like Fareeha in that way, really. A lot like Fareeha…"

"You don't still keep in touch, then?" Mercy queried.

"She passed away, sadly, years ago."

"Oh! I am so sorry," Mercy responded, in a dismayed tone.

"It's the way of things. Ana always knew that she put her life on the line for her job; really, she was putting her life on the line for others. She knew and relished the risks she took. She was shot and killed in the line of duty, doing what she loved and believed in."

"She sounds like she was very brave, and a wonderful person," murmured Mercy. "Now that I hear it, also much like Pharah."

"Yes, yes she was. She passed her skills and training to Fareeha, and more than that her courage and nobility as well. One of the strongest most remarkable women I have ever met," Dr. Abbas mused.

The food had arrived, and so the two doctors set about arranging the dishes, examining the food, and of course, setting about to eat it. The food was, for all intents and purposes, western-style - beef, veal, stroganoff, and a lot of eggs. The good doctor initially clucked at this, but was consoled by Dr. Abbas, who assured her she would get a taste of the local soon enough.

"In any case," Dr. Abbas ontinued when they had begun eating in earnest, "Please do look after Fareeha; she is tough, strong as they come. But she really hasn't had anyone for a long time."

"I will be sure to do that." Mercy said seriously. Her somewhat latent matronly instincts were thoroughly inspired.

"At least, try to be a friend to her as well as her client. Don't be put off by her oft-intimidating physical prowess; she has a heart of gold." Dr. Abbas said.

"Of course! Poor girl, to have lost her mother like that. But she really is something, you are very right - so strong and...Such...Such a marvelous body. Any man she falls in love with will be blessed to have her," Mercy effused.

Dr. Abbas laughed. "I couldn't tell you much about that," He said. "I don't know that she has ever pursued love much herself; I daresay as for would-be suitors, they are probably quite scared of her."

"Well it is a shame if that's the case!" Mercy protested, taking a bite of her steak.

"It's all a bit ironic, coming from you, Dr. Ziegler," chuckled Dr. Abbas. "When was the last time you made time for love?"

"How impertinent!" She laughed. "To be frank, I don't know - well, haven't met anyone yet who I think could keep up with me, that's all. Love is love, but I would need someone who is practical, hard-working - all of that sort of thing. But kind; sweet, you know?" The good doctor finished thoughtfully.

Dr Abbas laughed a bit at her sudden seriousness. "I'm sure you will find some such person, when the time is right - before you know it. Perhaps, even, they may be closer than you think."


End file.
